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DEATH 



OR, 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 



AUTHOR OF "AHASUERUS." 



NEW-YORK: 
Harper & Brothers, 82 Cliffs t. 



1843. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1843, by 

Harper & Brothers, 
In the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York. 



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DEATH; 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 



"How sad the wan and melancholy hour. 
When wintry night creeps o'er the dark'ning sky, 
While the dull whisper of the gathering gale 
Strikes like an omen on the shuddering soul ! 
So Death, with his chill breath, and bony hand 
Press'd on the sinking heart, from our dim sense 
Shuts out the fading world, until the Tomb, 
With its dread shadows, steals upon the scene, 
Where Hope lies buried in sepulchral gloom. 
And Joy shall be no more. 
A2 



death: or. 



" Midnight is dark, 
"When through the murky sky the thunder peals : 
Yet heavier, blacker, is that sable veil 
That Death draws o'er our unillumined orbs — 
A cloud intense, whose thick funereal shades 
Whirl through the billowy void from earth to 

heaven, 
Shrouding our sphere, that star nor sun can reach ! 



" Upon yon lifeless form the taper gleams 

"With feeble, sickly ray ; the shrunken breast 

Feels not the pressure of the folded hands, 

Or Grave's pale vestment now j the pulseless heart 

Must moulder in dull clay, no more to beat 

With ardent hopes or love ! What matters this. 

The ghastly drapery of the dead man's couch, 

Or sign of wo, or dissolution's seal. 

To him who lies in everlasting sleep ? 

Can he find joy in light ? Shall morning's breath 

Fan his pale brow, or flush his cheek again ? 



M E D O R U S DREAM. 

Shall dewy twilight, mantling o'er the earth, 
While sunset lingers on the distant mount. 
And viewless spirits, in the balmy air. 
Hold revel mid the fleecy summer clouds, 
Awake his soul once more, and bid it soar 
Up on its snowy wings mid angels there ? 



*' Night comes and goes, and Day streams o'er the 

east. 
Or, like a glorious seraph, in the west 
Sits on his cloudy pile of gold and gems, 
"While man admires, and earth, instinct with love, 
Falls into slumber 'neath that happy smile. 
Like a tired child, that sleeps with rosy dreams. 
Alas ! no ray can pierce his charnel-house ! 
The music of the winds, the rustling leaves. 
The song of birds, the perfume of the morn. 
The bright meridian sun, the azure dome, 
Through which the clouds on golden wings are 

borne. 
Where dwell those angel-ministers of love, 
Intent on good, who from their vases pour 



8 D E A T H ; R, 

The dews and showers that fertilize the land, 

And make it bloom in fragrance ; gentle eve, 

That, like a dove, on silent pinion stoops 

From out the sky, and hovers o'er the world 

As softly as the ring-dove o'er her nest — 

Can these again, in all their happy power. 

Invoke a spirit to his fading form, 

Touch his dull brain, unbind his frozen heart. 

Or through his breast a transient feeling pass. 

To break the changeless sliimber of the grave ? 

No : Light no glory hath to gild the tomb. 

And Time's drear wave flows soundless o'er his 

head. 
What matters it to him, the swelling dirge, 
The raven plume, the tread of muffled feet. 
The whisper'd tone that fears to hear itself; 
The agonizing cry of wife or child. 
The prayer, the gasp of some lone sister sad. 
The knell, the solemn service for the dead. 
The coffin, clod, and faded turf, and mound 
Heap'd up to mark his last, dark resting-place ? 
These are thy many woes, barbaric Death ! 
Darkness and tears, oblivion, agony, 



MEDORUSDREAM. 9 

Are thy remorseless ministers of ill j 
Sad end thou art of Nature's lustrous course, 
And mortal man shrinks 'neath thy angry frown, 
E'en as a stricken star to ashes turn'd. 
To dust and ashes, where once living rays 
Stream'd forth in splendour, dazzling countless 
worlds. 



" Oh, whither shall we turn, how wo escape 1 
E'en in the sunshine, basking on yon hill. 
Sits mocking Death, counting his victims o'er. 
E'en in the air that plays around my brow — 
Yea, in its warmth, its fragrance, and its tones, 
That lull with a low-breathing harmony. 
More soft than notes of reed or dulcet flute. 
Lurks there an unseen presence, and a voice 
Whose whisper fills the icy heart with fear. 
And horrifies the soul. Seek not the dance. 
Ye virgins, gay with flowers and rosy smiles ; 
Nor ye, bright youths, that quaff" the purple cup. 
List not the song that fires the quiv'ring soul. 
Nor heed the glance from Beauty's love-lit eye ; 



10 death; OR, 

Let Joy, that bird of Paradise, no more 
Stream like a sun-lit splendour through the sky : 
For while the rushing tide of gladness swells, 
While in the halls of revel Pleasure's glow- 
Kindles warm sympathy from heart to heart, 
And from the stagnant terror of our fears, 
We leap, exulting in our dream of hope : 
In that bright hour starts Death asudden up, 
Flaps his dark pall across the awe-hushed scene, 
Then beckons with a jeering finger forth, 
And leads unto the churchyard's silent shades, 
And searches out the epitaph that tells 
That Life is Death, and flesh but food for worms. 



" Thus musing oft, such shadowy visions rise, 
And freight my life with horror. Darkness still. 
Impenetrable darkness, ever hangs 
Like a thick curtain round my fainting soul, 
W^hile, as an hideous omen. Death sits there, 
And points me ever, with a mouldering hand, 
To his sad, eyeless aspect. Let me weep. 
Let blist'ring tears roll always down my cheek, 



MBDORUS' DREAM. 11 

Let me sit here in solitude and sigh, 

And count the hours that bear me to the tomb, 

"Where Silence black, and cold Oblivion's power, 

Forever hold their wan and stirless reign. 

Oh, let me weep and moan at Man's drear lot — 

Smiles are for angels only, tears for men." 



Thus sad Medorus, on the summer grass. 
At eve mused 'neath the waving willow-tree. 
Whose sweeping branches flung a sombre shade 
That made the day a mourner, and most soothed 
The yearnings of his soul for solitude : 
Until, to ease at last his grief-worn breast. 
Sleep came upon the wooing winds, and breathed 
Upon his lids, singing his heart to rest. 
Then Fancy, sweetest spirit of the skies. 
That timid starts from Reason's chilling gaze. 
Though ever ready she, with sunny stores 
Unseen, to comfort Man, flew swiftly down 
From out blue heaven, upon her rainbow wings. 
And sat beside him on the silken turf — 



12 DE ATH ; OR, 

Then held her magic mirror to his mind, 
And bade Medorus wake to realms of bliss, 
Unto the light of Knowledge and of Love. 



The light of Knowledge and of happy Lovel 
The one appears like some bright dawn that pours 

Its streaming tide 
Into the realms of darkness, and arrays 

Each cloud in gold, 
While in effulgence shines each fragrant world. 
The other, like those warm and rosy rays 

That sunset leaves, 
When all along yon fleeting mists that wing 

Their silent way, 
Through evening's twilight dome. 
There seems a presence of Divinity, 
As though a group of angels hover'd near. 

Or God's sweet smile 
Was ling'ring in the sky. 
Yet may their flowing rays harmonious beam, 
And shed a flood of radiance o'er the scene 
More effluent than the pearly orb that smiles 

Through Summer evening's shades. 



MEDORUS' DREAM. " 13 



How change Medorus' feelings as he wakes ! 
Darkness disperses, and pale Horror flies, . 

On bat-like wings, away. 
Now swiftly beats his healthful pulse with joy. 
Ecstatic blisses quiver in his soul ; 
A gush of rapture rushes through his heart. 

And fills his sparkling eyes. 
Within his thoughts black Night shall dwell no more. 

But Day shall reign — 
Not made by some false meteor in the air. 

Dazzling but to deceive ; 
Not like the broad and fiercely-blazing beams 

Of the high noonday sun ; 
Nor like the calm, translucent, liquid ray 

Of Luna mid the stars — 
These are terrestrial, and of mortal taint ; 
But like the light that bathes the snowy wings 
Of some pure seraph seated on his throne. 
As slow lie moves on beatific- course. 

And harps God's praise. 
B 



14 DE A T H ; OR, 



Then Fancy touch'd Medorus' brow, and quick 
His soul leap'd forth in disembodied bliss. 
And like an angel lay upon the air. 
When on the lids of sleeping flowers at eve 
The fresh and fragrant dew-drops sweetly lie ; 
When gentle birds their busy pinions fold, 
And nestling, dream of May-morn's vernal airs. 
Mid bush, and brake, and blooming hawthorn hedge; 
When Nature breathes a holy prayer for peace, 
And earth seems nearer heaven : then, in that hour, 
So still, so calm, v^^hen naught is heard around, 
Save the faint hum of some small insect's wing, 
And the low sigh of the light puffing breeze, 
Or shepherd's song down in the purple vale. 
Or Echo's voice like music in the hills — 
At that sweet hour, while in the tranquil dome 
A flush yet lingers, like those better deeds 
That warm and sanctify the good man's grave 
Long after life's faint light is quench'd and gone ; 
Then in such hour, a child of song hath seen. 
While tears of joy bedim his kindling gaze. 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 15 

Visions of bright-wing'd spirits in the sky, 
As pure, as fair, as gentle in their bhss 

As was Medonis' soul. 
'Twas not the wavy outline of the form 
As, flexile on the bosom of the air, 

It lay instinct with grace ! 
'Twas not the eye lit up with beams of love 

Bright as unclouded day ; 
'Twas not the wing that veil'd his peaceful breast 

White as unsullied snow ; 
But 'twas a truth and innocence of thought, 
An angel gift of stainless purity, 

That had our worship won. 



In that deep trance of immortality, 
Beyond the reach of mortal words to speak. 
Beyond conception's ever-active power. 
Long had Medorus lain in speechless joy — 
Now gazing on the lucid heavens above, 
Where thronging multitudes of happy forms. 
Shining in light, soft as the star of morn. 
Circled in music through the empyreal void ; 



16 death;or, 

And now around upon the lovely earth, 
Just as God's hand had made it, without stain, 
As on the primal day. If from his dreams 
The spirit had not roused him with soft words, 
As gentle as the sweet ^olian winds 
That sing the rose to sleep — 

Spreading her wings 
To catch the liquid breeze, she bade him mount 
Up through the balmy ether, there to bask 
In sunset's vermeil hues ; and there behold 
The sun's last rays flash through the amber air. 
And gild with golden fir6 the shadowy moon, 
Whose silver crescent o'er the eastern hills 

Faint gleams upon the sight. 



Swift gliding through the roseate atmosphere, 
They soar aloft on their rejoicing way. 
And pause not in their flight, until they reach 
A purple cloud that near the zenith lay 
Floating in glory, while its filmy threads 
Vibrated to each sunbeam's thrilling touch, 
Distilling dews ambrosial, and sweet showers 



ME DO RUS' DRE A M. 17 

To cool, embalm, and perfume all the sky. 
Here tarried they upon that blissful seat, 
And folded their light wings, 
And gazed abroad on that transcendent scene 
In soul-felt ecstasy. 



Oft hath the man who loveth Nature's ways. 
Musing, gone forth alone by Ocean's tide, 
And, gazing on that amaranthine plain, 
Hath mark'd the rich beams of descending day 
Shoot slanting o'er the light and feathery waves. 
Until the sea, by burning passion moved, 
Through all its depths, turns into liquid gold. 
And heaves and thrills beneath those ardent rays. 
With love too strong for mortal minds to know. 
With love too deep for mortal hearts to feel. 
Then, from that glorious main, his soul-lit eye 
Hath wander'd straight to heaven; and in one 

view 
The pearl, and flame, and amethyst, and gold, 
The shadowy vermeil flush, the purple hght. 
The amber-tinted streak, and banner'd clouds, 
B2 



18 DE ATH; OR, 

Like incense streaming up from Evening's shrine, 
Wafted by gentle gales along the sky, 
The beauty, brightness, majesty, and pomp, 
The gorgeous splendour of the imperial West, 
Burst on his raptured sight. He, happy then, 
While Fancy's spirit-form smiles o'er his head. 
Deems it the lovely sky that canopies 
The land of Paradise. But even he. 
In all he fancies there in those fair bowers, 
In all beheld on that enchanted sky. 
Hath never felt or seen, in feeblest form. 
The bliss or beauty that Medorus own'd. 



"Thou seest," the spirit said, "Death dwells not 

here." 
And round Medorus' lips a sweet smile play'd 
In all the lovehness and light of truth 
A cherub feels, when, from the Father's eye, 
A glance of love falls on his kneeling form j 
For, deep in his impulsive soul, he felt 

The Terror was not there. 
" Death is not here ; yet morn has pass'd away. 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 19 

And the full glory of broad noon has gone, 
And soon yon slowly-sinking sun must set 

Beneath the sea. 
Yet if Death be, thus. Soul, it is to die. 
Thus in th€ holy wisdom that is writ 
Upon the firmament, on cloud or star, 

Or on the circling sun. 
On the pure shadows of the mystic hours, 

And on yon amber sea, 
A sacred lesson Nature teaches man. 
That life is not one form, or phase, or part, 

But an harmonious whole. 
Whose ever-shifting scenes and acts display 

New beauties unto time. 
Life passes not with youth, nor manhood's prime, 

Though wonderful the change ; 
But wiser age advances with pure thoughts, ' 

More happy for the soul. 
Time passes not with morning, nor with noon. 

Though many shadows fall ; 
But evening comes, with its far-struggling beams, 

And with its twilight mists : 
Yet still, Medorus, angel-minds perceive 



20 D E A T H ; O R, 

As much of beauty in yon setting sun 

As in meridian day. 
Spirit fraternal ! oh, how hapless man, 
If in dark passions and in erring flesh, 

Unchanging he should dwell. 
In tedious struggle through the loathsome world, 

With life a ling'ring curse. 
With furrowed brow, and feverish, grief-bent form, 

He'd pass his lengthen'd years — 
And what God's mercy makes a glory now, 

A burning pain would be. 
If but the light of knowledge could shine through 

Man's darkened mind — 
If but the fire of sacred truth could touch 

His stagnant heart, 
And melt the chains that curb its swelling tide, 

Then would he know 
That in the hour the fluttering breath shall leave 

His trembling lips — 
That in the hour his senseless frame shall lie 

A mass of dust — 
In that same hour his being takes new form, 
And wings her way to a far happier clime 

Than earth can furnish here." 



MEDORUS' DREAM, 21 



The spirit ceased — her modulated tones, 

Like the far tinklings of a silver bell, 

Though still more rare her voice, and softer still. 

Sank on Medorus' ear. 
From his deep, lustrous eyes, pure tears of bliss 

Flow'd down his kindling cheeks. 
How fair he was, how beauteous, how serene ! 
No taint of earth-born sin upon his form. 
The joy of gratitude sat on his brow — 
The joy of love reposed in his soft eyes, 
The joy of prayer upon his stainless lips. 
He felt the pride of immortality. 
The joy of life eternal, endless round 

Of sweet, revolving change. 
Medorus' snowy wings, in sunset's glance, 

Glisten'd with golden rays. 
While Fancy's rainbow plumes flash'd through the 
air 

Bright streams of jewell'd light. 
There, in the balmy sky, they silent sate. 

Communing heart with heart ; 



22 D E A T H ; R, 

They knew God's gaze was on them from on high, 

Yet did not pause, or shrink ; — 
Well might Spring's spotless flowers turn pale with 

fear, 
Though more of sin than these. 
What priceless happiness, what rapturous thoughts, 
What elevated being they enjoy'd ! 
Yet still, as dust to gold, 
As night to vernal day, 
Were all they had to man's high destiny. 
But Change must act with its transmuting hand. 
Must cast aside the bonds that bind his soul. 

E'er he shall reach those spheres. 
Slowly around on that resplendent scene 
They look'd once more, with a long, ling'ring, 
gaze, 
Then turn'd to dewy Earth. 



Beneath their feet, slow wheeling on its path. 
Waking seraphic strains of starry song, 
Earth circled on its calm, harmonious way, 
Array'd in all those verdant, those abundant charms. 



MEDORUs' DREAM. 23 

Which God, when light from gloomy darkness 

sprang, 
With ever-graceful and full-bounteous hand, 
Around her lovely form then freely cast. 
First, as they look'd, there rose upon the sight 
Long, waving chains of happy-smiling hills. 
Uprising gently from the sloping vales, . 
As if to woo the rustling noontide winds : 
Next, wide-expansive, music-making seas. 
Across whose placid, soft-suspiring tides 
The playful breezes fly, on tireless wings. 
Then, 'neath their wond'ring eyes at once dis- 

play'd. 
Behold, in one far-sweeping, lovely view. 
The broad green vesture of the quick'ning sod 
Trembling with heat, and glowing into life 
Under the warm sun's vivifying beams ; 
The Desert's thirsty plains gemm'd with their green 
And cool oases, bright mid barren sands ; 
Rivers whose pearly tides stretch'd far away 
Through fertile lands to Ocean's emerald brink ; 
And lakes that seem'd, in their transparent depths. 
The crystal eyes of Earth. Here mountains, hills, 



24 D E A T H ; R, 

And winding dales, fair seas, and shining lakes. 
And silvery streams, gay-blooraing boughs, and flow- 
ery turf, 
Conspire, in all their loveliest power j to make 
The warm, the fresh, the pure, and beauteous form 
Of this enamell'd world. 



A quiv'ring light flash'd o'er the spirit's brow, 
Faint reflex of immortal thoughts that dwell 
In high angelic minds. A holier fire 
Shone in her radiant eyes, and louder now. 
Though still more musical, her harp-like voice : 
" Through countless years yon circling Orb has 

roll'd 
In sun-clad majesty around God's throne ; 
Through countless years the tide of human life 
Has ebb'd and flow'd like a continuous sea 
Upon Earth's bosom, whose hoarse, murmuring 

waves, 
Stirr'd by the storms of passion, ever beat 
On Time's eternal shores. Since first the sun 
Awoke the glory of this universe, 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 25 

Millions of men have walk'd yon verdant plains, 
Have breathed existence' narrow span awhile ; 
Then, 'neath transmuting change, have turn'd to 

dust. 
But not to perish then. Medorus, no ! 
Omniscient God rules in his seat on high 
With everlasting laws ; and Nature's power. 
In her grand march, while sounds the trump of Time, 
Through ages past, through cycles yet to come. 
Knows no progression : nor can myriad years 
Affect her supreme strength. Such as Earth waSj 
When first Creation's golden morn broke o'er 
Deep-slumbering chaos, with its rosy beams ; 
When, rolling through the boundless azure-fields, 
The sister stars join'd in the seraph chant 
That pours its flood of rapt'rous melody 
In pleased Jehovah's ear — such will Earth be 
Until the end — when, finish'd his great work, 
He shall recall undying Nature hence 
Unto his fadeless arms. I tell thee. Soul, 
Each drop of dew, that, like the orient pearl, 
Glistens at morn within the flow'ret's cup ; 
Each flower, that opes its petals to the day, 
C 



26 D E A T H ; R, 

And smiles in sunshine ; every blade of grass, 
Each waving tree, each river's crystal stream. 
Ocean's vast currents, ev'ry speck of sand 
Or substance huge that makes Earth's monstrous 

bulk, 
Shall yet in time assume man's living shape. 
Shall dwell a moment in such mortal form. 
Then be resolved in elemental life. 
Is not the vapour of yon snowy cloud — 
Are not the waters of yon rippling stream- 
Are not the waxen petals of Spring's flowers — 
Ts not the stainless rock, whose quick'ning heart 
Throbs with the fire Promethean, just as pure, 
And still more beautiful, than fleshly chains. 
That bind an essence in their torturing grasp 
That struggles to be free ? Bless'd spirit, thus 
Does sacred Wisdom prove its high designs 
In the bright resurrection of men's souls, 
Raised to celestial seats ; and in the course 
By which the dust^ squander'd by thriftless winds, 
Becomes the seed of life, and renovates. 
In all its varied aspects. Nature's power 
Of beauty, worth, and strength, and loveliness, 



M E D ORU s' DR E AM. 27 

While in a circle of harmonious strength 

And holy sympathy all things are bound — 

How glorious, then, the destiny of man ! 

Whose fading form, wrapp'd in the winding-sheet, 

Bursts from the tomb itself regenerate. 

And in a thousand accents of deep joy, 

And in a thousand hues and beauteous shapes. 

Shall live again, while his irradiate soul 

AsGends to Heaven. MedoruSj this is Death !" 



28 D E A T H ; R, 




>7a 



It was a lovely vision, that sweet spot, 
Where now Medorus and the Spirit stood. 



Behold a fresh and oval-fashion'd Dale, 
Deep bosom'd in the midst of rising hills. 
Through all the wide-extended landscape swelling, 
While on their verdant sides a woodland screen 

Reaches the fair horizon. 
No mortal footstep yet hath ever pass'd 

Its myrtle-guarded walls. 
No mortal hand hath ever yet profaned 

Its many-tinted flowers, 
Such as the wild enthusiast's soul hath view'd 

In Morning's formful sleep. 
When Fancy's varying rays stream freshly o'er 

His sympathetic heart : 



M E D R U s' D R E A M. 29 

Such as a poet's eager eye hath seen 

In youth's inspiring hour, 
While sitting on the smooth and pebbly beach 

. Of some sun-glowing sea. 
Or gazing on the white-wing'd clouds of noon 

From some enshaded glen : 
Such to Medorus' happy vision seem'd 

This star-lit vale. 



The turf lay thick and green, 
Close matted in its mossy woof, 

Upon the genial soil, 
Save where sweet beds of flowers 

Gaze upward on the stars, 
Whose odours rich, from where they lie, 

With gentle arms 
Enwreath'd about each other's forms, 
Intoxicate the sense with a delight 

As blissful as their fragrance. 
The red Rose, blushing in its virgin pride, 
Hangs lightly on its green and briery stalk, 
And kisses from its pale-cheek'd sister's brow, 
C2 



30 death; OR, 

With trembling lip, the pearly tear away. 
Here Violets, that spring by stealth at night, 
Of rarer scents and sweeter shapes than those 
Pluck'd by the village maiden in the vale, 
Ere yet the sun hath touch'd their dewy leaves, 
Mingle their balmiest odours and their hues 

With the soft-nectar'd sighs 
Of wind-flowers, pansies, hy'cinths, oxlips, 

And sun-striped tuhps tall. 
Until the freighted airs themselves grow faint, 
And on their weary way sink down to sleep 
Among the silent flowers watching there. 



Here tall trees, burden'd with their juicy fruits. 
Thick clustering down upon each loaded branch, 
Bent temptingly and low, as though to beg 
Some kindly hand to pluck their luscious gold ; 
While still o'er these, in mazy net- work, ran 
The tendrill'd vines of Spring's and Summer's birth ; 
Some, showering down their million-colour'd bloom 
Upon the verdant soil, which, melting fast 
Beneath the gentle warmth of Zephyr's breath. 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 31 

Flow'd purling through the grass in perfumed 

streams. 
Faint murmuring odorous melodies ; — 
For aye supplied by countless swelling buds, 
Whose perfect beauties, bursting on the light. 
Expand in fragrance, form, and beauteousness, 
Until, ecstatic in full-bosom'd joy. 
They leap away from off the parent stem, 
To be dissolved into nectareous springs. 
Others, their flexile limbs all intertwined, 

Bore crystal gems 
Imbosom'd in a glossy garniture 

Of trailing vine and leaf; 

Or large Transparencies, 
Enshaded with a deep-dyed Tyrian stain ; 
Or Jewels, gleaming with rich-rubied rays, 
That leave their liquid treasures on the taste 
Ere scarce the tongue hath press'd them. 



Through this enchanting Paradise 

Their pausing steps, 
Wand'ring along a labarynthine walk. 



32 DE A T H ; OR, . 

Led to the green and ebbless brink 

Of an unruffled lake, 

Upon whose stainless tide 

The water-lily lay, 
Sipping in graceful ease the limpid pearl, 
While looking down in maiden pride 

Upon her snowy form, 
Light-pictured in its waveless depths. 
In pure excess of happy innocence 

Elve-like and soft she smiles. 
Here, when the sunbeam's virgin light at morn 

Comes streaming from the East, 
Each sparkling drop, beneath the roseate thrill. 

Leaping in lustrous glow, 
This mimic sea seems like the flashing fount 

Of all earth's molten gems ; 
But now beneath the quiet-shining stars 

And fleecy-silver'd moon. 
And while the measures of that fairy song 

In soothing cadence steal 
From yonder jasraine-trellised bower. 

It calmly lies. 
Still as the moveless stars 



MEDORUs' DREAM. 33 

That on its surface glitter. 

Oh, list the music of that fairy strain ! 

I. 

" Come hither, Fairies, to our jasmine bower, 

And wake in joy the charmed lay ; 
Haste hither, sisters, e'er this moonlit hour 
Shall fly on happy wings away; 

Bring the myrtle and rose, 

And the flower which grows 
Lily-white in the deep forest shade, 

And we'll twine then a chain, 

That the spell may be vain 
Which would cruelly harm the fairy maid. 

n. 

" Sweet sisters, come from your sports in the air 

Where ye follow the fire-fly's shoots ; 
The dew-pearl place in your bright-braided hair, 
And sing with your soft golden lutes : 
As the magic sound 
Steals sweetly around. 



34 D E A T 11 ; R, 

Let it spread its web of fairy light 

O'er the sleeping flowers 

And the nectar'd showers 
That fall from the eyes of gentle Night. 

III. 

" From your palaces under the rosy wave, 

Where in dreams ye pass the day, 
From your gem-wrought homes in the crystal Cave, 
Or leafy couch wet with spray, 

Or waking or sleeping, 

In earth or air keeping 
Your dreams and your vigils of love. 

Bless'd spirits, one and all. 

Oh, list to the mystic call. 
For the stars in the silent sky. 
And the low wind's whisper'd sigh, 
And the tear in each flow'ret's eye, 
Will now our sweet-toned power approve." 



Plain was the language of the Fairy's call, 
But musically wild those woven notes 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 35 

Which fill'd with harmony that spirit-haunt, 
And in swift pleasure heav'd Medorus' soul 
Beneath the charm of the dissolving song. 
In Asia's orange gardens, the Bulbul, 
With tongue fuli-steep'd in odours at its birth, 
From where he sits upon his rose-leaf perch, 
Singing to night's fair, silver-crested queen, 
Hath never yet pour'd forth such melody ; 
Nor mock-bird gay, that in Virginia's bowers 
Breathes out the summer-lightning of his song 
To rouse the drowsy sense of dreaming eve. 
Or fluttering in the breath of fresh'ning morn 
From bush to bushj from dewy brake to brake. 
At last alights on some old ivied tree, 
And with sweet pipe, that hails Aurora's smile, 
Awakes long echoes o'er some stilly sea ; 
Nor lute, nor harp, nor witch'd Thessalian lyre, 
Nor reed, touch'd by the balmy west wind's lip, 
Nor woman's voice, more charming yet than these. 
One half the rapture of that magic lay 
Hath ever pour'd into the listener's heart. 



36 D E A T H ; O R, 



The song had ceased — the last vibrating note 
Caught by the murmuring airs, prolong'd, 

Was now in silence lost, 
Save vs?hat might linger yet on memory's ear, 

When thus the spirit spake : 
" This tranquil, this delicious scene, oh Soul, 
Excites thy fine existence with delight. 
While joy's quick fire thy sensate frame pervades, 
In thy pure mind a perfect knowledge rules, 
And full incorporate with thine inmost life, 
Uranian Love now holds her sov'reign sway. 
Behold that flower uprising 'neath thy step ! 
The half-felt breeze slight bends its pliant stalk, 
And as its tiny bud rocks to and fro. 
And courts the sunshine in its harmless glee. 
With a glad light of inborn joy it smiles. 
And looks a little purple star of Earth !" 



Into its complex textur'd form 
Medorus' eye deep search'd. 



M E D R U s' D R E A M. 37 

Full and perfect was God's will 
Seen in that painted flower, 
As in the hugest sun, that, veil'd in flame, 
Is wont its broad, unmeasured sphere to roll 
Through boundless Nature's universal dome. 
Perpetual power of life existed there, 
That in decay finds strength renew'd, and life. 
Through change of time, and place, and circum- 
stance, 
Through centuries whose glories have all gone. 
In ashes which the steel-shod foot hath spurn'd, 
Or in that shape that beauty oft hath pluck'd 
To win a fragrance yet more sweet than hers. 
That httle plant hath lived, and yet will live. 

The tender, star-shaped leaf. 

The stalk of vivid green, 
The pearly roots, entwisted in the ground, 

"Wear but new form. 
The vein-like channels playing through its trunk, 
'Neath the quick beatings of an unseen heart, 
A perfect conduct gave through its slight frame 
To life's and odour's swift elixir streams : 
And yet, bud, stalk, and vein, and silver leaf, 
D 



38 death; OR, 

Were in the seed from which it had its birth. 
All these were there, to form a deathless life ; 
And such the shape it must again assume 
By fadeless Nature's indestructive laws. 
That give to it a fruitful being here, 
Undying as the earth on which it falls. 



" Spirit !" Medorus said, while o'er his face 
The flying shadows of his thought fast play'd, 
" Death dwells not in his hateful presence here." 
But as the words of music pass'd his lips, 
The angel waved her potent hand on high, 
And, sudden as a dream, the scene was changed. 



It seem'd that months had now roll'd quick away. 
And on their tides had swept into a wreck 
The pride and beauty of the peaceful dale ; 
The whistling winds blew keen and cold 
Across chill fields of garish snow. 
While now and then, with melancholy howl. 
They utter'd shrill complaints. 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 39 

As though their famish'd spirits needed still 

More prey on which to feed. 
The ice-incrusted branches of the trees 
Moan'd piteously, or wildly shriek'd aloud, 
When the devouring blasts swept madly by, 
As if fierce animate with curdling pain. 
Black weeds, whose dank and pithless forms droop'd 
down 

In cold, unshelter'd penury. 
Now cast their skeleton shadows o'er 

The frost-enmirror'd plain, 
As though to mock, with misery and wo. 
The ashes of dead flowers entombed beneath 
Not one small spot of velvet verdure met 

The sun-bedazzled gaze. 
But here and there a meager, frozen blade. 

So wither'd and deep-stain'd 
That the sick eye shrunk 'neath its veiling lids 

In suffering and in fear. 

The clinging, curling vines. 
Whose leafy fingers once had slyly search'd 
For tasteful places mid the whisp'ring trees, 

Where blushing, pulpy fruits 

Might cluster gracefully. 



40 death; OR, 

Now stiff and straight in shapeless, rigid lines, 

Or ornamentless curves, 
Hung awkward on each creaking limb. 
Monotonously swinging with the storm. 
Or on the flinty soil all sapless lay, 
Strewn by the wintry gale. 
Upon the brilliant lake, the glittering ice. 

Thick-frozen, shone, 
And through the torpid tide beneath. 

The water-lily's stem 

No longer waving ran. 

Bright spirits all were gone 
From earth, air, sea, of this once fragrant vale, 
And leafless, herbless, stiff with cramp and cold. 

Here now Despair might reign 
With Demons, leagued from Winter's twilight caves. 



" Lo ! this is Death, the Sammael of the Earth ;" 
And shivering then and pale, benumb'd with fear, 
Medorus, shrinking, closed his eyes in pain. 
But quick the Spirit smiled, and when he spoke, 
Medorus felt a glow of genial warmth 
Illumine his whole frame 



ME DORUS' DREAM. 41 

With strength too keen and exquisite to speak 

In uninibodying words. 
" There is a sympathy 'mong all that dwell 
Upon this balanced sphere, sometimes remote, 
Sometimes more near in close affinities. 
The gaudy butterfly, whose painted form 
Floats aimless mid the sportive airs of spring. 
May hafve his being from the flesh that lay 
Next to great Cffisar's comprehensive heart. 
The slimy worm, whose slow, laborious course 
Confines the goal of its ephemeral life 
To a poor rod of land, may owe its frame 
To one whose august presence awed the world, 
And made it quake with wonder and with fear. 
Form is but dust, and when man's body sinks 
'Neath Nature's hand in the dissolving grave. 
Its office done, its light extinguish'd then. 
There shall it soon resolve by Heaven's command 
Into those elements from which 'twas called. 
And many a link is form'd, and many a germ 
Sustaining Nature in her fadeless course 
Of cause and of effect. Thus do we learn 

That where a grain of sand sleeps in its bed, 
D2 



42 D E A T H ; R, 

Which mortal eye hath never yet beheld ; 
Where'er the smallest drop of water rolls 
Deep in the midst of the unmeasured sea, 
Which the glad sunshine never yet hath warm'd, 
To the great earth, to stars and golden suns — 
Yea, from Hope's birth, through Destiny's wide 

reign. 
In man the flesh, and man the living soul. 
In all his sympathies with Nature's laws, 
Through mighty Nature's broad, mysterious rounds, 
Up to those essences that ever live 
In the sweet warmth of the Creator's breath, 
An endless chain is seen embracing all, 
And God supreme beholds the work complete. 
No link shall perish from this circling chain, 
But they shall last. Annihilation's pang, 
Seizing one human soul in its dark grasp. 
Touching one pebble on the sea's broad shore, 
Clouding the very vapour that man breathes. 
Would startle, in their stern, eternal strength, 
The towers of universe. 

" Shall man dispute 
Jehovah's sacred ways, or laugh at God ? 



M E D R U s' D R E A M. 43 

Shall he, in his audacious thoughts, assume 

His feeble, petty energies have strength 

To place him on that lofty tribunal 

Where the great Godhead reigns ? No ! man may 

rule, 
In low obedience bow'd, his small domain ; 
But as in day the stars of night expire. 
So swiftly fade his fainting powers away, 
Immerged in lustrous God's effulgent light, 
Which with one radiant beam extinguishes 
Ten million million earth-enkindled rays. 
These powerless in their transitory flash 
To add one spark to his almighty sun. 
If, then, God wills yon flower shall droop, and fall, 
And turn to ashes — that its bloom shall fade, 
And naught remain of that fair, fragrant thing. 
Save the dark, shapeless seed — shall man proclaim 
That Heaven's great first and universal law, 
Stamp'd on the record of eternal things. 
The solemn seal of Nature's lengthen'd scroll, 
The life in change, a Phoenix from Time's dust, 
A mystery from whose shadowy influence springs 
The birth of ages, is some cruel trick. 



44 DE ATH ; OR, 

Conceived in folly, and in deed unjust ; 

An act of wo, to please a fiendish breast 1 

Let not the mind such' impious thoughts dare own. 

But rather let it look abroad and read 

The wisdom that shines out in every line 

Of the wide page traced by the Father's hand. 

All are His work, beginning and the end, 

The birth, the germe, the growth, and that great 

change 
Which from the ashes of departed forms 
Kindles new life, and thus. perpetuates 
To all eternity the vital flame. 



" Lo ! mark the progress of the full-grown Year, 

As, lightly borne upon the wing of Time, 

He passes gently to the land of dreams, 

By men declared oblivion, hut in truth 

Life's universe, more vast and populous 

Than all the space and all the worlds that shine 

In yon far-reaching dome. Shadow of Jove ! 

Eternal mirror of eternal acts. 

Whose light, reflected through the unmeasured past. 



M E D R U s' D R E A M. 45 

Is yet too dazzling for the feeble gaze 
Of man's earth-tainted mind. Here congregate 
In one grand resurrection unto life, 
Their features palpable, their forms display'd, 
All thoughts, all deeds, all acts, low or supreme, 
By God created with omniscient hand, 
By man accomplish'd, or by Fate decreed. 
Like to the stars whose milky archway bends 
Across the sweeping skies. Lo ! mark the Year, 
As, passing onward in triumphal flight, 
Each joyful Season follows in his way. 
Fair is each Season as each rules the scene, 
Happy each Season on their bless'd domains : — 
And when their slumb'ring eyes wake to the day, 
Roused by th' advancing Hours, whose pageantry 
Sweeps through the bright'ning skies, how strange 

the plan 
To mortal comprehension, which thus makes 
From elements distinct a glorious whole. 
Where beauty, peace, and harmony prevail 
With fervid purpose and with ceaseless strength. 



46 ■ • D E A T H ; R, 



"Spring laughing comes to bless the verdant land. 

Sweet breezes kiss the glowing curls that Ue 

Upon her blooming cheek ; a lambent fire 

Plays from her radiant eyes ; 'neath her light step 

Daisies and cowslips grow. Upon the bud 

She breathes, and quick the rose unfolds 

Its tinted leaves, and, trembling with keen bliss, 

Sips the pure morning dews, and soft exhales 

A gentle odour through the garden's walks 

More sweet than beauty's breath. Hark to those 

sounds ! 
The warbling notes that rise upon the gale 
Steal o'er the soul like voices of pure prayer, 
Or dream of Eden's joys. O'er all the earth 
Warm sunshine streams, whose fructifying rays 
Strike through the fibrous soil, and quicken there 
A thousand lovely forms ; these straightway start 
From that deep sleep which heaven so kindly sends 
Through winter's rugged hour, while soon they join 
The happy circle of all beauteous things, 
That fill the world with perfume and with song, 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 47 

Hailing their bounteous mistress, virgin Spring. 
Mark Summer, sitting 'neath yon spreading palm, 
Her shady throne. With matron dignity 
She gazes round, and smiles in quiet pride 
While counting o'er the glorious wealth that fills 
Her wide domain. Now wave the growing fields 
Beneath the rip'ning winds and the warm sun ; 
Now the soft pulp of the distending fruits 
Imbibes rich nectar from the glowing beams 
Of the calm, golden day. Now Hope sits laughing 
In a world of light, and Promise near 
Weaves the bright numbers of a joyous lay, 
With Plenty still the burden of his theme. 
Next Autumn comes, the sweet industrious maid. 
Who garners up the treasures of past days. 
Brown nuts, and yellow grain, and ripen'd stores 
Of mellow'd fruits ; yet still a pensive smile. 
As soft as moonlight on some slumb'ring stream. 
Throws o'er her face a melancholy shade 
Of sober thought, as though her heart was sad 
That the large harvests which her sickle wins 
Should leave the earth so bare. And then she sings 
A plaintive strain that echoes through the land, 



48 D E A T H ; R, 

Like the wild cooings of some soft-toned dove, 

A note of resignation and of peace, 

Though still a sound of sadness from the soul. 

Lo ! Winter rushes from the land of storms : 

From the cold Arctic regions, where he sat 

'Mong clouds and darkness, and vast misshaped 

forms, 
He comes, with frosts, and howling winds, and hail. 
And the dark terrors of a sunless sky. 
Unshorn his ragged beard, and his fierce eyes, 
Relentless as the murderer's stony heart. 
Condemns the victim, while his icy breath. 
More deadly than the lightning's fiery gleam, 
Sweeps life into oblivion. Spirit, no ; 
Man's finite faculties alone may see 
Such evil in God's goodness : we behold 
A crowning mercy of beneficence 
In Winter's coldest blast. Could earth exist 
Without that change in matter and in form 
By which her strength recuperates, and lends 
An impulse unto Nature's fostering will ? 
The pulpy fruit would perish where it falls 
But for the bitter kernel ; flowers would fade, 



MEDO RU S' DREAM. 49 

No more mid sweet ambrosial dews to bloom, 
But for the winter's torpid touch, that crusts 
The leathery seed with its rough coating o'er, 
Freezes its ardent currents ere they spring 
Into ephemeral being, and thus yields 
Unto a small and leaden speck, a power 
Of life perpetual, and from dull clay 
Maintains a breathing world. 



" The loveliest thing 
That ever yet had graceful being here, 

Aimless as zephyr, 
Whose soft, fluttering breath 
Plays o'er the waves of some light-rippling sea. 

Or firm as earth's huge pole 

Ne'er shaken from its poise. 
But in reliefless constancy oft seen. 

Grows tame to eye and mind. 
The sense rejects the perfume of the rose. 
Smelling too long its concentrated sweets : 
The eye flies from the dahlia's rainbow dyes, 
Too constant seen, with feverish restlessness, 
E 



50 D E A T H ; R, 

To funeral black, or to barbaric red, 

Seeking relief in change of saddest kind 

From ever-present beauty's agony : 

Music is discord, Passion without soul, 

But that God's law, in wise ordainment, makes 

Kaleidoscopic change 
The ruling spirit of man's varying life. 
Naught yet, however wonderful or fair. 
Nor foamy gush of breezy waterfall. 
Nor art-refining music's swelling strains. 
Nor sea-shell's pearl, deep dyed with Nature's blood, 

Nor Morning's beaming star, 
When day's faint tinge enstreaks the lucid East, 
Nor Summer's pearly half moon, crescent-cast. 
That trembling hangs in th' amethystine sl<y, 
Nor anything, or pure, or bright, or high, 
But that, presented to the unvarying gaze, 
■ The loath in jr soul abhors. ' 



" Then if the breath shall leave man's mortal frame, 
Obeying Nature's laws, the will of God, 
The body changing but its clayey mould 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 51 

To others just as fair in Nature's chain, 
While the immortal soul soars forth to bliss ; 
Shall man confess the passions of his breast. 
And cry in wail, and tears, and agony, 
That Death hath seized upon his victim prey, 
That Death hath loosed the sympathies of life. 
Hath crush'd the mind just dawning into day, 
Hath priqk'd the heart just fragrant with first love, 
While God but smiles at him the sufferer ? 
No : from the vision of Despair shall rise 
A loftier thought of love and gratitude, 
For ceaseless blessings render'd to mankind; 
And they unto the Father shall give praise, 
That, pitying fallen man's infirm estate. 
He did not give him here eternal form 
Sad with disease, with care and sorrow sad ; 
But rather dress'd him up in purple robes. 
To-day in purple robes that suit him well. 
That on to-morrow take another dve. 



" What then is death but change, a pleasing change, 
W^hich down the troubled stream of earth conducts 



52 D E ATH ; OR, 

To the vast ocean of unceasing joys 7 

No care, no sorrow, no disease, no pain ; 

No restless pillow of ill-fated crime ; 

No vice to tempt, nor tyranny to bind ; 

A land of song, where thrilling harp-strings ring ; 

A land of peace, where life perennial blooms." 



M E D R U s' D R E A M. 53 






I. 

" Above the golden lights on high,- 

Father, thou art sitting, 
And with effulgent, searching eye, 

Heaven's King befitting, 
Thou dart'st through space a universal ray. 
While men and angels own thy blissful sway. 

II. 

" Thy hand hath made these arching skies, 
Hath made the sun with splendid power to rise. 
And clothed the sunset with its gorgeous dyes ; 

Hath made the moon to shine 

"With shadowy ray divine ; 
And twilight pale that gathers o'er the world. 
When beaming day hath his broad banner furl'd." 
E2 



54 D E A T H ; R, 

III. 

" Thou fill'st Night's ebon vault with silver fires, 

And shower'st the orient rains, 
And giv'st the whisp'ring breeze's mystic lyres 

To play those soft-toned strains 
That lull sweet Eve to calm and holy sleep, 
"While from the dewy buds bright dreamlets peep. 

IV. 

" Thou giv'st me joy exhaustless thus to sing, 

And words to weave my lay, 
And givest full strength to each created thing. 
Thy praise to chant, from whence all pleasures spring, 

As from the source of day 

Light springeth on its way 
O'er forest, hill, and vale, with splendour-streaming 
ray. 

V. 

" Then sun and stars, and deep and moveless sky, 
Wake in loud tones the pealing melody j 
And thou. Eve's peerless queen, with maiden zone, 
Strike your sweet harp and touch its rarest tone j 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 55 

And ye, earth's fairest things, that gayly bloom 

In joy's electric hght, 
Whose heaviest, darkest, gloomiest doom 

Is soft as May's pure night ; 
Ye fragrant, shady bowers, and rosy streams. 
And hills that catch the morning's happy beams ; 
Ye fertile vales, whose laden harvest fields 
To man their golden treasure yearly yields ; 
And ye, pure spirits, whose immortal souls 
Shall live when earth through space no longer rolls 

(If such sad hour may ever be), 
Join all to swell the choral harmony 

Singing, high God, to thee !" 



Long on the angel's face Medorus gazed : 
Moveless he gazed with vision rapt, entranced, 
Watching the heaven-lit changes of his smiles. 
Listing the notes breathed from his trembling lips, 
As, with a quick and sympathetic motion, 
The wavy outline of his airy form 
Thrill'd to the thoughts that stirr'd throughout his 
being : 



56 D E ATH ; R, 

All — all is life, all beautiful in life ; 

E'en where the whirling leaf lies in the dust, 

Or where the ashes of some wither'd weed 

Is bleaching in the field, Life joyous springs. • 

Each hill is green wdth life, and every rock 

That crumbles 'neath the wild goat's bounding foot 

Is quick with nascent instinct. Every plain 

And every mount is populous with life ; 

Each crystal lake that shines in Luna's light, 

And every rolling billow of the main. 

Are eloquent with Life's upswelling voice. 

The Universe is one vast power of life, 

Of sounds harmonious and of fervid soul. 

Eternal Nature is but life and love : 

Life that speaks out with a melodious tongue. 

And beautifies a world with graceful forms ; 

And love that is the spirit of all life, 

That sanctifies the mortal image here. 

And stamps it with the everlasting seal 

Of God's enduring strength. The waving tree, 

When Winter's snowy sceptre threats the land, 

Drops its pale leaves in pensive Autumn's lap. 

And in its bosom guards the vital fire 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 57 

Whose swift and subtile impulse vivifies 

Each bud and blossom bright. But is this Death 1 

Let once again Spring's warm returning hours 

Visit the vocal woods, and, lo ! how fair, 

How rich an object ravishes the sight ! 

It shakes its tressy foliage in the winds, 

And whispers with a thousand airy notes 

Its siren music to the list'ner's ear. 

In its imbower'd shade the sweet bird builds. 

And the faint chirpings of her fledgling brood 

Sink like a blissful odour in her heart. 

It seems some lovely vision of the morn, 

Born of the pearly dews and smiling light : 

It hath a voice — how soothing are its tones ! 

It hath a form — how fairy-like its grace ! 

It hath a feeling, teaching it deep joy, 

That revels in the sunbeam's golden warmth, 

And in the vernal breeze — and this is Life — 

Life, coeternal with Heaven's highest act, 

Twin-born with Light, a fadeless principle, 

That ever hath been, that will ever be. 

Foundation of all change and of all good. 

The phases of all Time, Eternity, 



58 D E A T H ; R, 

The vast, eventful Past, are naught but hfe ; 

And Death's large brood of spectral horrors pale, 

And all his phantoms in the reeling brain, 

Are only life at last. Th' expiring breath 

Deserts the quiv'ring lip, and, lo ! the change ! 

Follow the soul in her imperial flight. 

More swift than yonder silver meteor flies, 

Yet more serene than the light-balanced bird, 

That sleeps amid the vapours of the eve. 

She heavenward soars upon immortal wing, 

To seek the priceless pleasures of that realm 

Where Love's pure smile illumes the holy skies. 

And bliss shall be eternal. Happy soul ! 

Thy radiant path leads through unnumber'd spheres, 

Whose countless glories fill immeasured space, 

And they, fair gardens of the Infinite, 

Might tempt you from your upward course to roam ! 

In vain they tempt with transitory joys — 

In vain shall fairer flowers than Earth e'er saw. 

Fairer than Eve e'er cull'd in Paradise, 

In vain the nectar of those rosy founts, 

Whose draught would be a treasure to mankind. 

Entice the soul to stoop from her intent. 



M E D O R U s' D R E A M. 59 

Instinct with God, her wing is plumed for heaven ; 

Her bliss is in that flight ; and now, at last, 

Amid the peans of swift-thronging bands, 

Amid the harpings of celestial songs, . 

Amid a light affluent as the dawn 

That broke long since o'er Eden's dewy bowers, 

Fast panting in keen ecstasy, she sinks 

Near by the throne of God. Oh, happy soul ! 

Ages on ages thus shall pass away, 

And each succeeding age shall ever bring 

A fresh dehght. Wider thy range of thought, 

Wider and higher, till the skyey realm 

Beneath thy comprehensive vision lies. 

As in th' Almighty's eye. Till, in the end — 

End pure, ineffable, approaching near 

Thg power immaculate — thou shalt become 

Incorporate with the Godhead Majesty — 

One with itself, all time, all space, all will. 

And this is Life ! Hail, holy Life supreme ! 

Whose brooding spirit sits in universe. 

Illumining the void. The flaming sun, 

The pale-orb'd moon, the planetary stars, 

The broad-arch'd dome, are but thy ministers: 

Next to Jehovah, higher than angels, thou. 



60 D E A T H : R, 



With sympathy celestial, Fancy then 

Read on Medorus' beaming brow his thoughts, 

And thus again she spoke in sorrowing tones : 



"Look to the pastj man's fruitful history, 
Fruitful in thought of vice, in act of crime, 
Makes Contemplation shudder as she reads 
The fearful lines traced by the dagger's edge. 
And stain'd with blood of martyrs and of saints. 
The piteous cry of Wo, weeping convulsed 
O'er dying Hope, borne on the wailing winds. 
Have knell'd uncounted nations to their graves. 
Dark murder, dyed with life-encrimson'd spoil, 
And Desolation, with gigantic mien. 
Reeling, and blind in wretchedness and guilt, 
Have wander'd hand in hand o'er earth's vast fields, 
And trampled them to ashes. From that morn 
When first the murder'd Abel bleeding lay, 
Slain by his brother's hand, and Cain walk'd forth 
Beneath the frowning heavens, the burning curse 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 61 

Stamp'd on his sullen brow, has hideous Sin 
Been trailing through the world his serpent path, 
Preying with wily arts on erring man, 
"Who in free agency defenceless stands, 
If found unarm'd in Virtue's temper'd mail. 
And with this loathsome, complex-figured fiend, 
Comes monstrous Ignorance with her motley'd brood. 
Who quaff, exulting in the fiendish feast, 
Their gory goblets to the very dregs. 
Pale Prejudice, with lank and crooked limbs. 
And jaundiced eyes, distorted from the truth : 
Error, with devious steps, whose visual ray, 
Deaden'd and owlish in its leaden stare, 
Prefers Night's darkness to the light of Day : 
Envy, and Malice, palsied Doubt, mad Fear, 
And fair Untruth, with softly-whisp'ring tongue, 
With Up of honey, and with heart of gall : 
'Tis these, fierce Sin's untiring agents here, 
That fright the soul with Death. These, fiendish, fix 
The heavy chains that rust upon the mind. 
These crush at once the intellectual germ, 
Or dwarf into the stunted bush that hides 
The adder, hissing in its deadly coil, 
F 



62 DE ATH ; OR, 

The oak, whose strong and flexile roots would 

pierce 
The earth's deep centre — whose high-tow'ring head, 
Born for the skies, looks ever at the sun. 
These shout with savage joy, when rampant War 
Leaps up infuriate, clad in ratthng steel. 
And winds the bugle's loud and startling blast, 
While, with bright dagger flashing in its ire. 
Full at the. heart of timid Peace he strikes, 
Who, shudd'ring, flies the plenteous, smiling vale, 
To crouch among the mountains' unsealed rocks. 
These, with Hypocrisy's insidious smile. 
Unto the unsuspecting stranger's thirst 
Proifer, with servile lip and fawning knee, 
The fiery-poison'd bowl of hellebore. 
These, in Religion's mask of sanctity. 
Seek, with the red, inquisitorial rack. 
Or horrid Dungeon's solitary gloom, 
Or cunning eloquence, which pleads with lies, 
That Satan's burning heart exulting hears, 
To tempt proud Conscience to forswear herself, 
To sell her freedom birthright, and to live 
The slave of prejudice and cramping rule. 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 63 

To pass a life dishonour'd with foul acts, 

And die a torturing death, a death that knows 

No glorious after-birth of bliss, no end. 

These taint earth's airs with' their infected breath: 

They fill the hero's, heart with dreams of power, 

And turn the current of his thoughts awry. 

Till the tumultuous waters, of the mind 

Drown fainting Reason in their hot career. 

Then he whose arm should wield the patriot spear, 

Upon whose noble and unblenching brow 

Fame's hand should place the green, victorious 

wreath. 
The vigour of whose pliant leaves shall last 
When yon strong tower falls mould'ring in the dust, 
Whose soul should seek the bosom of its God 
Unstain'd by crime, untrerabling but with bliss-r- 
He, born to drink of glory's golden cup. 
Becomes a despot on a tinsell'd throne, 
The pageant of a day, the curse of years. 
These oft perplex, with labyrinthine maze 
Of sophist craft, the counsel of the wise. 
Distract the statesman's patriotic views. 
Disastrous cabal with bold hands direct, 



64 D E A T H ; O R, 

Or prompt, in cunning guise, to intrigue vile, 

That grovels in its shame, and ends in wo. 

These by the midnight lamp with Learning sit, 

And to her ears speak dreadful phantasies, 

Till raging madness seizes on her brain ; 

Or in th' ac'demic porch with Science walk, 

Teaching to her calm, meditative mind. 

Intrusive subtleties, for those broad truths 

On which before she firmly based her strength ; — 

Until, at last, in feeblest influence 

She tott'ring sinks in her sad, tearless grave, 

Her soul unnerved, her world a joyless wreck. 

These to Imagination, siren lays 

Are wont to chant, in soft, deceptive tones. 

While in gay sunshine, by the murmuring stream 

He careless sits, in youth's unmeasured hour. 

And as the Circean song swells from the notes, 

That musically breathe love's fragrant sigh, 

And sweeps into Ambition's trumpet sound, 

The god of poesy leaps from the turf, 

Throws from his dimpled hand the rose-bud wreath, 

Seizes with eager haste the tuneful harp 

That hangs upon the myrtle o'er his head, 



MEDORUS' DREAM. 65 

Then from Parnassus' sun-crown'd top he soars ; 
But presently, quick-panting, out of breath. 
Full on some sharp and barren rock he falls, 
And there, unnourish'd, perishes with cold. 
With fell intent they ever aim at Truth, 
While, in wide flight, she circles through the skies ; 
And if an arrow, shot by their foul hands, 
Should hapless bring her bleeding to the ground. 
When helpless there she lies, in rage that speaks 
The low-born tyranny of mischanced rule, 
The venom'd poison of an adder heart, 
They scatter dust upon her plumage bright. 
And try with busy power to break her wings. 
Till soon to life arousing from that swoon 
(For Truth immortal knows not how to die), 
She gathers strength, and opes her eagle orbs ; 
Then, pale and awed by her majestic glance, 
To hide their fears, they crawl away in gloom. 
These are Sin's instruments, and Death's, 
That ever ready stand to mislead man 
From Virtue's path, through Vice's dark domain ; 
Yet still, though age succeeding age shall pass, 
And care and pain, and agony's loud wail, 
F 2 



66 death; or, medorus' dream. 

Under Sin's scorpion lash, shall rise from earth 
A constant cloud of darkness 'neath the sun, 
Still Life and Love shall conquer them at last ; 
And man, repentant, yet shall live to see 
This now benighted world breathe freedom's breath, 
And shine resplendent in the light of Truth. 



FINIS. 



i-\r n jLo i^^nj 



